'I pay the Composers' Guild a bundle every year,' Carney said. 'Jerry'll get his nickel.'
'But you're not getting the best part,' Izzy said with a grin. 'The words.'
'Izzy, get up there and belt them out. They're your words.'
'Me? I should have a bucket to carry Jerry's tunes.'
'I'm going to write a show,' Oliver Lebanon said, 'and it will be vastly better than anything you two could scribble.'
'Ollie, you've a wicked tongue,' Izzy said.
'Well, I've tried to lead a wicked life to match.'
Skye Fitzhugh got up and spoke into Carney's ear. 'There's one of Tweel's dengs at the bar. With a woman.'
'Yeah, I know. Going over there in just a bit.'
'Your boys were afraid to tangle with it.'
'No, they're under orders to take it easy, for now.'
'Right. What kind of woman would take up with an incubus?'
Overhearing, Selma said, 'Didn't you know that dengs are supposed to be extraordinarily well- equipped?'
'That's an old wives' tale,' Fitzhugh retorted.
'I'm an old wife.'
'You're a kid. You're not thinking of leaving me for a deng, are you?'
'I might, you never know. A woman likes to raise a little hell, too, now and then.'
'Have another drink, Selma.'
'I will.'
Carney said, 'Dengs tend to use up women fast. An affair with one is life-shortening.'
'Short,' Selma said, 'but sweet. Unlike the present one, which is just nasty and brutish.'
Fitzhugh said, 'Selma's not as unhappy as she sounds.'
'Speak for yourself.'
Skye Fitzhugh shrugged helplessly, sat back down, and tossed off his drink.
'See you people later,' Carney said. 'Have some business.'
'Don't sign anything in blood,' Monk Calahan warned.
'At least not without your agent,' Geof Katzman said.
Carney waved casually and left, threading his way across the floor. He saw Tony Montanaro coming toward him.
'Boss! Hey, you finally showed up. We got trouble.'
'How's my nightclub doing, Manager?'
'_S okay. Tweel can't move in on us here, though I bet he's gonna try.'
Tony wore a white dinner jacket and a red bow tie. He had longish graying hair combed back with a part down the middle. For all the silver in his hair, he still looked young. His eyes were dark and his eyebrows almost met over his nose ? but there was something delicate about his face, almost babylike.
'Howie told me about Tully and Curt.'
'Yeah, that was nasty. But they shoulda known. When you mix it with dengs without magic backup, you might as well have your candelotto in your hand.' Tony made a motion. 'You know what I'm sayin'?'
'I know whereof you speak. What else has been happening?'
'Things are happening all over town. Duke Holland got zotzed.'
'Tweel?'
'Word's out on the street that that's who it was. He's movin' in on everybody, not just us. All over town, everybody's got trouble from Tweel.'
'He's got the muscle. He feels he has to use it.'
'He's got the dengs. Not too many bosses have a line to the real power.'
'Duke Holland had some pretty good voodoo going for him,' Carney said. 'His protection spells were first-rate. Tweel must have moved up a notch on the infernal scale. Down, I should say.'
'Tweel's dengs zotzed Holland's zombies. Holland wasn't exactly a great human being, but I feel sorry for the guy. He sells his soul, then he finds out too late he got rooked. Imagine setting up a protection circle, and then, there you are, looking like a big chichrool.'
'Embarrassing. Well, I guess we have to deal with our visitor.'
'Yeah, he's emptied out the bar, and he's running up a hell of a tab.'
'I'll deal with him. How's the action in the back room tonight?'
'House has the odds, as usual. Business is good.'
'Fine. By the way, is Father Sealey here tonight?'
'Yeah, I think I saw him.' Tony looked. 'Over there, by the bandstand. He's got a cute little number with him.'
'Tony, do something for me, will you? Send to the bar for a seltzer bottle and have a boy bring it over to the father's table.'
'Seltzer? Yeah, okay. But the father takes his hooch straight up.'
'I know.'
'Sure, boss, sure.'
'And after that, get out of the monkey suit and into street clothes. I want you to drop me somewhere.'
'Okay, boss. I'll get Andy to take over.'
Carney crossed to the bandstand. Jerry Goldfarb was still banging away on the baby grand. A crowd had gathered around him, raptly attentive, some people singing along with the show-stopper he was currently into.
Father Sealey was entertaining a young lady. She was pretty ? short brown hair, short gold lame dress.
'John, long time no see,' Father Sealey said, smiling, his bald pate shining in the pinspots. He rose and extended a chubby hand.
'How's it going, Father?'
'So-so. I'm still without a parish, temporarily. The bishop still equivocates about assigning me.'
'He doesn't know what a good man he's toying with.'
'Thanks, John. But His Excellency and I differ on where the souls are, the souls that need saving. They're here, not in the churches. Old ladies in babushkas have their tickets stamped already.' He waved around. 'Whereas these jokers don't know where the boat docks.'
'They just might have a boarding pass to Charon's dinghy.'
'That might be true. John, may I present my niece, Shauna Sealey. Shauna, Mr. John Carney, the owner of the Pelican Club.'
'Hello,' Shauna said with an engaging dimpled smile.
'Hi.' Carney took her small hand. 'City University?'
'How'd you know?'
'Let's see. Sorority. Omicron Upsilon Kappa?'
Shauna was mildly amazed. 'O. U. Kid. You guessed it.'
'Majoring in… mathematics.'
'History. But I changed from math!'
'Your boyfriend's name is Chuck, and he's in engineering. He likes football, and he gave you a huge stuffed teddy bear for your birthday, along with that gold friendship ring.'
Fingering the ring, Shauna shook her head. 'You must be the magician they say you are.'
Father Sealey laughed.
Carney said, 'Your uncle talks a lot about you.'
Shauna reddened slightly. 'You're a bit of a tease.' She turned to the priest. 'But how did you know about the teddy bear? I never mentioned that.'
Nonplussed, Father Sealey lifted his shoulders.
The boy arrived with the seltzer bottle.
Carney took it and set it down. 'Father, I wonder if you'd do me a favor.'
Over at the bar, Tony Montanaro was practically spitting into the deng's face:
